


One Good Reason

by wearethewitches



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: 5+1 Things, Aphrodisiacs, Bisexual Yasmin Khan, F/F, Family Fluff, Lesbian Thirteenth Doctor, Light Angst, Mild Smut, Paradox, Time Travel, Unplanned Pregnancy, Yasmin Khan Loves the Thirteenth Doctor, bootstrap paradox
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 09:25:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18150041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearethewitches/pseuds/wearethewitches
Summary: “Oh no,” Sabreena whispers, squeezing Yasmin’s hands as if in comfort. “You’re Yasmin Khan. I shouldn’t have…oh no.”“Have we met before? Are you like the Doctor?” Yasmin asks, figuring this is a timey-wimey thing, as the Doctor’s called it before. “Are you a Time Lord?”"Similar."-5+1, wherein the Thasmin daughter from the future meets Yasmin before she should and it ripples.





	One Good Reason

**ONE**

Everything is dark. Yasmin squints, trying to see anything at all, failing dramatically. Standing cautiously, she finds the wall – the wet, sticky wall that Yasmin does not want to touch but has to, if she wants to find the door – and follows it around and around in a circle.

A voice comes from the centre of the room, echoing. “The exit is in the ceiling.”

Yasmin startles. “Who’s there?”

“My name’s Sabreena,” the owner of the voice says, sounding happy that there’s someone to talk to. “I’ve been here over a year now. The tribespeople think that I’m a heathen god who eats sacrifices. Really, I just let them out. C’mon, you can climb up onto my shoulders and climb through the tunnel.”

“What about you?” Yasmin asks, concerned. “If they think you eat people and you don’t, what are you _actually_ eating instead?”

“There’s mushrooms. I also have bigger-on-the-inside pockets. Come here – I’ll give you some other snacks I’ve got. They’re not meant for me, really – actually, they’re technically medication, but they don’t activate except under specific circumstances and with the right people – but anyway, they’re tasty and it’s all I’ve got, except the mushrooms.”

Sabreena supplies this information cheerily, like it’s okay to live on mushrooms and questionable medicinal snacks. Yasmin thinks Sabreena sounds like she’s female, maybe around her age, if the calm in face of despair is anything to go by. Young adults are good at that in any time period, Yasmin’s found.

“What’s your name? Wait – no, don’t tell me,” Sabreena says, interrupting herself. “I know that you tribespeople are funny about names.”

“I’m not from the tribes,” Yasmin replies, hesitantly stepping away from the wall, trying to find the woman. “I’ve got a friend whose pockets do the same thing.”

“…odd,” Sabreena says, voice twisting. Her calm is fading, now. “You’re visiting?”

“Yeah,” Yasmin says, before bumping into something. When hands brush down her arms to find her hands, Yasmin figures it’s Sabreena, feeling something like a Rainbow Ribbon being pressed into her hands. When she brings it up to bite, she’s proven right, sour sugar tingling across her tongue. How it can be medication, Yasmin doesn’t know. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Sabreena murmurs, locking their fingers together. Yasmin wonders what she is – the tribespeople only have three fingers per hand and Sabreena has five, like a human. “Thought the accent was off. You’re…are you from Sheffield?”

Yasmin stiffens. “Doctor?”

“Oh no,” Sabreena whispers, squeezing Yasmin’s hands as if in comfort. “You’re Yasmin Khan. I shouldn’t have…oh no.”

“Have we met before? Are you like the Doctor?” Yasmin asks, figuring this is a _timey-wimey_ thing, as the Doctor’s called it before. “Are you a Time Lord?”

“Similar,” she answers. “Technically, no, but I’m like her. We’re both Gallifreyan, except I never went to the Academy. I still looked into the Time Vortex when I was old enough, but I never got the accolades. I know you in your personal future.”

“Really?” Yasmin asks, “What am I like?”

“Amazing,” Sabreena squeezes her hands again. “We’ve got to get you out. You have so much more to do. I’m sure the future you will come rescue me, when you realise exactly who I am – future you, that is.”

“Why can’t I help rescue you now?” Yasmin demands, feeling protective. “If I care enough to rescue you in the future, I’ll feel even more terrible for leaving you here, now.”

The other woman startles. “Really? But you don’t even know me.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Yasmin says firmly. “Now, what’s this about a tunnel?”

* * *

**TWO**

In the light, Sabreena looks like Sonya.

She has the same colour of skin as Yasmin, but she’s shorter and a little broader, hands tucked in her pockets to stop her from fidgeting. Yasmin was right to guess she was around her age – but she’s probably younger, judging from the face. Her eyes are a familiar bright blue.

“Hello, who are you?” the Doctor asks her when they’re tucked away in the TARDIS, Ryan, Yasmin and Graham puffed from the running they just had to do to escape the alien forest tribe. Yasmin frowns at Sabreena’s flinch. “We can get you home, wherever home might be – you’re obviously not from around here.”

“Home is far away,” Sabreena mumbles, looking at her feet. The resemblance to Sonya is startling – she looks like Yasmin’s sister whenever she’s done something that makes her feel abominably guilty. “Drop me anywhere. My parents will find me as soon as you go away.”

“Really? Well, that’s odd. Do they have a tracker on you? How did they not find you already, if they do?”

“She said I’d rescue her, in the future,” Yasmin tells the Doctor, who swivels to face her with a frown. “She’s from my future, apparently.”

“Yeah,” Sabreena agrees quietly. “I tried to convince her to leave me on the planet – your future selves could have gotten me out.”

“Well, we did instead,” the Doctor says, sounding stressed. “You’re a time traveller? Are you Yasmin’s family? I don’t usually pick up family members, except Jackie, but that was a mistake.”

“…I’m not supposed to say anything,” Sabreena looks up, then, frowning at the Doctor. Yasmin stands up straight, wiping her forehead as she looks between them. “I don’t understand. Have you not…”

“Have I not what?” the Doctor asks, before raising a hand and unknowingly quoting the strange girl from earlier, “Wait – no, don’t tell me.”

“Doctor,” Yasmin says, attracting her attention. “She told me stuff earlier, about Galli-”

“Don’t!” Sabreena grabs her arm tightly, “Don’t tell her! I didn’t realise you were so young, I thought you knew, that she’d _told_ you that stuff already. Please, _Aami_.”

Yasmin blanches. Sabreena looks firm in her choice of words, if a little nervous.

“Oh, Yaz,” the Doctor says in a hush, sadness audible. Yasmin wonders why she’s sad, when clearly, she and her daughter are travelling with the Doctor in the future.

“What’s ‘ah-mee’?” Graham questions, Yasmin swallowing the large lump in her throat, trying to catalogue every last detail of the girl in front of her.

“It means ‘mum’ in Urdu,” Yasmin tells him, feeling like she’s giving part of herself away. Graham’s eyes widen, Ryan boggling at Sabreena.

“You’re Yaz’s kid from the future?”

“Yeah. My name’s Sabreena – you’re probably missing me a lot,” Sabreena says to Yasmin, who nods silently in agreement. Sabreena lets go of Yasmin’s arm and Yasmin wants it back again – wants to grab her daughter in a hug and try not to imagine her child living on mushrooms in the dead dark, saving poor sacrifices from imprisonment and leaving herself out.

 _Nothing’s stopping me,_ she thinks, before doing just that. Sabreena sucks in a breath, hugging her back in an instant, shuddering.

“I was so alone,” she whimpers.

“You’re out of there now, sweetheart.”

“I should go back to my mum, my _real_ mum-” Sabreena gasps and Yasmin isn’t offended. Just because she called Yasmin _aami_ once doesn’t make Yasmin here and now her mother. Tightening her hold briefly, Yasmin lets her cry into her shoulder, not expecting the Doctor to hesitantly put a hand on Sabreena’s back, rubbing.

“Yaz’s family is always welcome here,” she says and somehow, that makes Sabreena cry harder.

* * *

**THREE**

Yasmin has had a lot of time to think about Sabreena, since they left her on New Earth on a field overlooking New-New York. Sabreena had sat down on a picnic blanket the Doctor had provided, sitting in wait as the TARDIS disappeared behind her. Yasmin had turned all of Sabreena’s words around in her head, searching for hidden meanings and any way whatsoever that could imply Sabreena is anything other than an alien herself.

 _I don’t want to fall in love with a different Time Lord,_ she thinks when the Doctor drops Graham and Ryan off home, taking Yasmin on a solo trip.

“It’s a party where only ladies are invited – I think the Queen was trying to insult me at the time. I was a man, back then,” the Doctor grins at her and Yasmin laughs, imagining a prissy alien queen inviting the Doctor to a ladies-only ball.

The Doctor helps her get dressed up, showing her the pretty chitons and dresses that mimic ancient Greek fashion, sometimes drifting into more patterned and geometrical designs. The Doctor, of course, is still in her charity-shop clothes and coat by the end, while Yasmin is wearing a thin white dress with elbow-length sleeves and a beautiful purple wrap with square golden edging that reminds her of the Aztecs.

“Beautiful,” the Doctor stares at her, eyes glimmering.

They go to the party, the Doctor flourishing her invitation when asked. The Queen looks piqued that the Doctor managed to become female seemingly _just_ to get into her party. The Doctor doesn’t care, paying all her attention to Yasmin as they dance, spinning her so many times – Yasmin even trips once, falling into the Doctor’s waiting arms.

“You’re just falling all over me,” the Doctor teases.

“Yeah,” Yasmin breaths, stars in her eyes.

There’s something in the drinks – the Doctor tells her while they’re ordering them. It’s harmless to them both, she says and it’s true, it _is_ harmless, for space Viagra. The party is also a pre-orgy bash, which is why the Queen was annoyed the Doctor managed to turn up. The Doctor and Yasmin sneak off when clothes start disappearing, but one of the women there nearly convinces Yasmin to stay.

“She’s with me,” the Doctor says, though. It’s slightly possessive and her arm twitches, hand brushing over Yasmin’s back. The other woman looks positively gleeful.

“The new compound is working well,” she winks, before leaving them to their sneaking.

“What did she mean?” Yasmin asks, when they’re on the other side of the royal mansion, sitting on a window-seat. She watches the Doctor, feeling a familiar heat low in her stomach. The Doctor is half-shadowed, eyes in the dark bright like stars. Yasmin lets her knee, previously brought up against her chest, drift down, leg reach out towards the alien woman as she wonders.

A hand around her ankle. Fingers brushing the edge of her dress. “I think you know,” the Doctor says quietly.

“I think I do,” Yasmin replies.

 _There’s a stimulant in the food and drink being offered around,_ she’d said earlier, cheery as can be. _Shouldn’t affect human biology, but in case it does, don’t be afraid. Just tell me and we’ll go back to the TARDIS._

 _What kind of stimulant?_ Yasmin had asked.

 _Oh, just…_ the Doctor had gotten so hand-wavy and red – her cheeks going pink. _Sex. These people worship a sex goddess – that’s what this party is all about._

_So, space Viagra, basically._

_Basically. More like sex pollen but…yeah. Space Viagra. Basically._

“What do you want to do?” the Doctor asks.

“She said it was a new compound – what do _you_ want to do, Doctor?” Yasmin questions and the Doctor hesitates, eyes blown wide. The grip around her ankle gets tighter and Yasmin wonders if her indecision is an _I’m an alien whose age can’t be counted very well_ thing or a _I don’t think Yaz is flirting with me_ thing.

 _I really don’t want to fall in love with someone else just so I can have Sabreena_ , Yasmin decides, reaching out, barely able to grasp the Doctor’s coat. Her feelings are tumultuous, her stomach flipping inside out and she _wants_ , skin warm as the Doctor leans forwards, slow and methodically climbing closer. _Please,_ she thinks.

Her hand pushes up Yasmin’s skirt, bunching it up under her legs. Her wrap is pushed aside, slipping off her shoulder.

“Say yes,” the Doctor whispers, eyes locked on hers.

“Yes – yes, _please,_ ” Yasmin outright begs and the Doctor kisses her, Yasmin gathering her hands up in the Doctor’s coat. The Doctor slips one of her legs down, onto the floor, half-standing as she turns Yasmin around so her own legs hang off the ledge. It really only occurs to her what is _truly_ happening when the Doctor wraps an arm around her waist to lift her slightly – taking her underwear off and tucking it in her pocket.

“Do you want this, Yaz?” the Doctor whispers to her, breaking the kiss. She looks so worried and Yasmin absolutely _falls_ , heart beating against her ribcage as she raises her hand to the Doctor’s cheek. Her skin is cool to touch and Yasmin thinks of boys who climbed through her window and Poppy Hillman, who she snogged on a bench for what seemed like half the summer when she was sixteen.

“I’ve never had sex with a lady, before,” Yasmin admits. “I know what goes on, but…yeah, I do, Doctor. I want this. Can- can I kiss you again?”

The Doctor smiles and let’s out a little laugh, not replying with words. Their lips press together and Yasmin deepens the kiss soon after, jumping slightly when the Doctor brushes her hands along her thighs.

“Kiss me,” she whispers.

“It would be my pleasure,” the Doctor replies, before dropping to her knees and pressing her mouth to places Yasmin daren’t touch at home, where her sister or parents might have heard. She moans and twists her hands in the Doctor’s soft blonde hair, cursing when the Doctor pulls back to kiss her wrists and lips, pausing when she _absolutely_ shouldn’t.

“Get back down there,” Yasmin groans after the Doctor kisses her hard enough it tingles, fabric falling to graze sensitive flesh and making her twitch.

“Insatiable woman,” the Doctor laughs, kissing her again before returning to business. Yasmin’s high is drawn out and yo-yoed back and forth until it finally comes, the Doctor gathering her up and pulling her wrap around her shoulders when she shivers.

“Everyone outside can see me,” Yasmin says, remembering the window at her back.

“Nah, you’re not even facing the glass,” the Doctor disagrees, her eyes flickering outside as a shadow passes on the opposite wall. The Doctor glares at whatever it was. “And here I thought I’d get a peaceful evening. Time to run.”

“What? Really?” _I want to return the favour,_ Yasmin wants to say, but it doesn’t come. The Doctor holds her hand and pulls her along the corridor gently, unable to stop from smirking with something like pride when Yasmin stumbles. “Couldn’t they have waited till after?”

“Only a thirty-minute love affair for us tonight, Yasmin Khan,” the Doctor says, before they go off to save the evening.

* * *

**FOUR**

Food tastes strange in her mouth. She’s grown two sizes larger in her chest. Normally, a girl her age might be happy for the latter, but combined with the first sign and the nausea she’s getting after eating, it makes Yasmin fearful in a way she hasn’t felt before.

“Could be space flu,” Ryan offers when she says she’s feeling under the weather. Yasmin shrugs it off, eating her takeaway. Graham decided to treat them all to Chinese and the Doctor is taking it with gusto across the table, trying everything in all sorts of combinations.

When she hears Yasmin’s feeling sick, she frowns at her. “Space flu? You don’t look like you’ve got space flu. What sort of symptoms have you got?”

Yasmin’s stomach flips – not from nausea, but from nerves. _The Doctor’s an alien,_ her brain reminds her, _and we’ve not exactly been ignoring each other since the party._ In fact, they’d done the opposite of ignoring each other. Yasmin can point out two places in the kitchen alone that they’d done it again, reciprocating equally unlike at the party – not that she’d ever tell Ryan or Graham that.

“I’ll be fine,” she assures her. The Doctor looks unconvinced.

The next time they go home, Yasmin takes the week to herself, slipping off to the pharmacy when she thinks no-one’s looking. Key word here being _thinks_ , because her mum is tapping her foot in front of the bathroom when she shakily opens the door, _POSITIVE_ being screamed at her in capital letters on the digital screen.

Najia stops still at her face. “Yasmin?”

“Mum, I…” Yasmin shudders, the test clenched in her fist. “Can we go to my room?”

“Sure,” her mum puts her arm around her shoulders and Yaz is crying before her bedroom door closes. She’s panicking – confused and upset. How is she pregnant? _How is she pregnant?_

“I’m not even dating a boy!” is what comes out when her mum tries to comfort her. “She’s not- she’s a bleedin’ _alien_ , mum and she don’t even have boy bits!”

Najia stares at her daughter with wide eyes. “You and the Doctor are together?”

“I- we-” and the tears stop. Yasmin sniffles and shudders, wiping her face and sitting down on her bed. Najia wraps her in a hug as she draws in heaving breaths. “I don’t even know. We haven’t much talked about it, just…just fucked around,” she says crudely.

“I’ll kill her,” Najia mutters.

“Mum,” Yasmin can’t help but laugh, thinking of Sabreena Khan and a future that awaits her – of a time where her daughter is travelling in the TARDIS. _I should have guessed,_ Yasmin thinks, burrowing her face in her hands. _Sabreena looked so heartbroken when the Doctor talked to her like she was just one of her friends’ kids._ “I want to keep her.”

“If the Doctor-”

“No, _Aami_ ,” Yasmin interrupts, deciding to come clean. “I met her. The Doctor’s Tardis – her blue box, it travels in space and time. She’s a time traveller. We’re all time travellers – me, Ryan and Graham, too. The Doctor takes people on adventures and sometimes, we help people, _meet_ people.”

Her mother’s grip loosens, her mind connecting the dots. “You met her,” she says. “You want to keep her.”

“Sabreena Khan,” Yasmin supplies and the hug tightens, briefly. Yasmin leans into her mum’s warmth. “I’m only nineteen.”

“How long have you been travelling?” Najia asks her, “Through… _time?_ Doesn’t that make you older?”

Yasmin rubs at her wet eyes. “I dunno, Mum, but it don’t make much difference if time doesn’t pass here. I’m still only a probationary officer, I’m still legally so old. Sabreena said…she said she was Gallifreyan. It’s what the Doctor is. She said nothing about being Human, for all future me would be missing her.”

“She’ll be like the Doctor, then,” Najia runs a hand over Yasmin’s head in comfort. “You want to keep her. If she’s the Doctor’s, she’s got a right to know. It’s not like your friends would keep it from her, if they found out.”

“They wouldn’t and even if they did…even if they did, the Doctor would figure it out, I think. She’s too clever.”

“At least it means your baby will be clever,” Najia says and it’s the first teasing comment of many. Yasmin chuckles, cries again, then ends up watching Netflix with her mum until Sonya comes home from her friends and joins their huddle, asking what the hell is up. Sonya barely believes Yasmin when she says she’s going to be an aunt, questioning her ability to get laid at all.

“Oh, believe me, I get laid,” Yasmin snorts, only for her father to drop all the shopping as he comes in the door from behind. Yasmin turns to face him and cringes. “Sorry, Dad.”

Najia snickers as Hakim tries to speak, picking up the shopping. “Might as well tell him the news right now, Yasmin. Get it all out of the way.”

“Right,” Yasmin says, taking a breath and only curling her shoulders in a little. “Dad, you’re going to be a granddad.”

Hakim drops the groceries again.

* * *

**FIVE**

_Stop putting it off_ , she tells herself after she’s fumbled with a glass and dropped it, cutting herself badly when trying to clean up. The Doctor is cleaning her cut now with a wipe, humming quietly to herself – but Yasmin’s nerves are insurmountable. Maybe it was the original shock of the situation that gave Yasmin the confidence to tell her family – her family who are eagerly waiting for her to come back after a month aboard the TARDIS, as if speeding up her pregnancy isn’t really _speeding up_ on Yasmin’s part – and now that the shock has faded, every reason in the history of reasons is giving itself a chance to be used in place of Yasmin telling the Doctor she’s pregnant.

The Doctor gets blood on the back of her hand. For whatever reason, rather than using a wipe she licks it off – face immediately screwing up. Yasmin suddenly has a horrifying vision of the Doctor telling Yasmin’s she’s pregnant rather than the other way around, but instead, the Doctor exclaims something different.

“You’ve got nanobots in your system!” The Doctor forgoes bandaging her hand to tug her off her chair. “We’ve got to go to the medbay?”

“Nanobots?” Yasmin questions, mind whirring. _Am I really pregnant? Was the test confused by mini robots?_ But no – she is, enough time has passed that she can recognise the change in her body that her mum helped her point out in a mirror.

The Doctor’s hand around hers is tight and familiar. “Yes and I promise you, Yaz, I’ll find out how and why. Nanobots like those aren’t invented for centuries yet, in your time, so you’ve obviously picked them up when travelling with me. It’s my fault; I’ll fix it. I’ll find out what the nanobots are doing and I’ll fix it.”

 _You’ll fix it,_ Yasmin thinks, feeling her legs turn to jelly as they rush to the medbay. _You’ll look at me in the medbay, trying to see what the nanobots are doing and see our baby._

Our baby.

It’s the first time Yasmin’s thought about it that way. In her head, it’s always been _I’m pregnant_ or _I’m having a baby and it’s yours_ , never _our baby, I’m having our baby_. The phrase makes Yasmin feel different, like they’re in this together, except the Doctor isn’t aware. They’re going to be parents and the Doctor _doesn’t know_.

Her guilt rages inside her, a black pit of despair. Yet, her nerves triumph over it and she’s dragged to the TARDIS medical bay, sat on a bed and jabbed with a medical gun meant to take a blood sample. It leaves a bruise behind that the Doctor apologises for while plugging the gun into a screen, sitting beside her on the bed to let her see.

“It’ll do a scan of everything, make a list of all your current conditions – allergies and stuff like that, check if you’ve got any cancerous cells and the like – and pick up the nanobots. Then, the TARDIS can tell me what they’re doing to you.” The Doctor says, trying to be cheerful. She nudges Yasmin’s arm, saying, “It could be perfectly normal. Some planets have nanobots in the air, designed to protect tourists from local viruses and toxins. Some even have networks through their local galaxies with nanobots designed for auto-updates whenever they enter planet’s boundaries. Makes immigration a lot easier, too.”

“Doctor,” Yasmin starts – mind whispering _finally, tell her, tell her quick_ – and her voice is so very shaky. “Doctor, there’s something-”

The screen dings and the Doctor lights up, “There we go! Now let’s…see.” Her eyes are glued to the list of current conditions, clearly labelled in the top right corner. Yasmin can read, clear as day, _Pregnancy (15 weeks, 2 days)_.

It’s funny. That’s how long ago the party was, she thinks.

“Right,” the Doctor whispers. “Right, okay…uh, congratulations?”

“Congratulations yourself,” Yasmin says, equally as quiet. “I haven’t been with anyone but you since before we started travelling together.”

The Doctor looks to her. Her face is blank, but her eyes are heated. Yasmin isn’t sure whether or not it’s anger or something else.

“You knew.”

“I was…I didn’t know how to tell you,” Yasmin says, ashamed.

“Yasmin,” the Doctor says, “in this body, I don’t have the parts for that. I have an idea what the nanobots are, now, but that kind of tech has to be used on purpose.”

Yasmin’s eyes widen. “I would never! I didn’t- I had no clue until last week! What kind of technology can even _do_ that?”

“Sabreena. Did she give you anything?” The Doctor asks, “Anything at all? The nanobots could come in any form.”

Yasmin feels almost used, betrayed, even – except she knows that it was a mistake. “She didn’t know who I was, not in the dark,” Yasmin says, not realising the Doctor’s taken ahold of her hand until she’s locked their fingers together. “She said it only worked for the right people, so we were fine to eat it. She didn’t mean it.”

“Debatable. She might have been ensuring her own existence,” the Doctor says quietly, diplomatic. “Do you want to keep it?”

“Yeah, I do,” Yasmin’s eyes sting, but she refuses to cry. “You?”

“Me?” the Doctor asks, as if not realising she had a choice in this. “Why are you asking me? It’s your body that’s going to change and grow a whole new human.”

“Gallifreyan,” Yasmin corrects. “Sabreena said she was a Gallifreyan – that she wasn’t technically a Time Lord because she never went to an Academy, but she still was one.”

The Doctor suddenly looks aged beyond comprehension, eyes old and distant, like she’s remembering some long forgotten past. “Oh,” she says, caught up in memories. “Gallifreyan, right…Human biology gets overridden when half-breeds become Time Lords. Gallifreyan synapses start firing and the Human part of the brain goes into meltdown, activating the regeneration process. It changes their entire biology, for their own continued survival.”

“How did she look like Sonya, then? Sabreena, I mean.”

“She might have kept her original body, outwardly,” the Doctor hypothesis, looking down at Yasmin’s flat belly. Only extremely discerning eyes can tell she’s different and that’s with her clothes off. “Or we might have coached her, let her design a new look for herself. That young though, she wouldn’t have much control over it. She’d barely get any input at all.”

“We,” Yasmin murmurs and immediately, it’s like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders. The Doctor looks up, meeting her eyes. She seems to realise something.

“Yasmin, did you think I was going to leave you with this on your own? That’s our daughter in there most likely, unless you want to have another one,” the Doctor disregards the screen and Yasmin’s hand, cupping her face gently. “I’m with you.”

“Good,” Yasmin says fiercely. Their next kiss is just as hot, lips locking as their bodies press together.

_Good._

* * *

**\+ ONE**

The first TARDIS engine-noise has barely faded to nothingness before a second takes its place. Sabreena continues to look out on New-New York like nothing’s wrong, playing with the buttons on her velvet scarlet coat. Her mum always smiles when she sees her wearing it.

_My fourth self used to wear that coat!_

“You, missy, have some explaining to do,” her _Aami_ says, the doors barely open before she’s speaking, rushing out to drop down beside her, arms locking around her. Sabreena leans into her, breathing in the familiar smell that is _home_ and her mother.

Yasmin presses a kiss to her head. “How did you end up getting labelled a heathen god?”

“Tried to cure someone of space rabies,” Sabreena says, hearing her mum inside the TARDIS chiding her sister as she tries to leave the TARDIS without her shoes on. “They weren’t much into it. Sacrifice was their jam.”

Yasmin sighs heavily, hugging her tightly. Sabreena peeks behind her, to where her mum is coming out of the TARDIS with a shoeless and sockless Astos, who squeals upon seeing Sabreena, reaching out with grabby hands.

“Sabreena Grace Khan, you are in _big_ trouble,” the Doctor says, belying her happy countenance. She grins at Sabreena’s two-year old sister. “Your sister’s in trouble, oh yes, she is _very_ much in trouble.”

“What is my punishment for ensuring the timeline remains intact? By accident, even?” Sabreena asks, raising her chin. Her mum plops down onto the picnic blanket, depositing Astos inbetween her legs.

“Baby-sitting duties. You really think we had those nanobots lying around for no reason?” The Doctor wiggles her eyebrows, causing Sabreena to wrinkle her nose sharply. “The ones you accidentally gave your _aami_ disintegrated before Astos here was a twinkle in our eyes – before you were even born; courtesy of the Old Girl, free of charge!”

“Everything’s free in the Tardis medbay,” Sabreena argues, before Yasmin tugs on her long braid, oily from long months without a wash.

“You need a shower,” her _Aami_ informs her, before sighing. “Any ideas what to call your new baby sister?”

“Why not a brother?” Sabreena asks.

“Female plus female equals female. C’mon ‘Breena, use your head,” her mum chuffs her, elbowing her lightly. Sabreena elbows back, before Yasmin clears her throat, stopping the playful nudging turning into an out-right elbowing war. “Anyway, unless either of you kids regenerate, all we’ll have are daughters.”

“I don’t mind having daughters forever,” Yasmin jokes, grinning. Sabreena beams at her; while seeing a past version of her mother was wonderful, the real thing is better. Letting her _aami_ hug her hard enough her ribs might have broken if she were Human, Sabreena sinks into the company of her family, happy they exist at all.


End file.
